


brighter than a blue sky

by allinadayswork



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Feelings Realization, Gay Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Being an Asshole, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Platonic Allurance, Rejection, Season/Series 07, but before that, late s7/early s8 au, mentions of allurance, theyre soulmates your honor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23374252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allinadayswork/pseuds/allinadayswork
Summary: “I’m sorry,” says Keith. Lance’s chest clenches.He comes closer still, until he’s standing just a foot or so away from Lance. The proximity pulls something deep within Lance’s stomach, his breath hitching as he drops his arms and straightens to his full height. Up this close, Lance can see how tall Keith has grown in the last — god, two years for him? that he’d been gone. They’re basically the same height now. It’s like…“Keith?”…like they’re on level ground.Like they’re equals.
Relationships: Allura & Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 73





	1. still i refrain

**Author's Note:**

> title - heather by conan gray
> 
> chapter title/lyrics - i've told you now by sam smith

_but what the hell?_

_why do you think i come ‘round here_

_on my free will?_

On nights like this, Lance can’t help but miss the Castleship.

Sure, he loves being back on Earth — loves being on the same planet as his family again, loves staying in the Galaxy Garrison more than he ever has before, now that Veronica is here too — but Lance loves space.

He’s loved space ever since he was just a little boy, when he would sneak out and walk the fifteen minutes it takes to get from his house to Veradero Beach, just to look at the stars and memorize their arrangements. He never actually learned the names of constellations until he enlisted with the Garrison when he was thirteen; instead, he would trace the outline of the stars that loomed above the glassy shoreline, connecting them in new ways each time to make his own constellations.

When he finally got up to space, when he was finally able to touch the stars but not his family, Lance had longed for home. Had ached for the long stretch of damp sand that ran along the ocean, the same sand his mother would yell at him in Spanish for tracking into the house. He had missed it all, and he can’t possibly describe how happy he is to finally have it all back. Maybe not in the same way, and definitely not forever, but still. It's his, nonetheless. The thought alone fills his chest with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time.

But he’s not home, not really. He’s stuck at the Garrison, the same place that lead him to the point in his life he’s in right now — in the middle of a ten-thousand year long intergalactic war, as a fundamental part of the one weapon that could end it. And on nights like this, nights when his thoughts are too big and too loud to let him rest, his mind wanders back to outer space and he thinks: _I miss that._

Because at least there, aboard the too-big and too-bright Castleship, Lance could wander about and find his way to the large full-glass mirror that looked out into whatever leg of the universe they happened to be in. He could be alone with those thoughts as he looked out to stars he’s never seen before, following different patterns with his eyes as he mapped constellations like he did all those years ago on Veradero.

But here, back in the Garrison, he can’t do that. There are always people up, milling about and working well into late hours of the night when it’s supposed to be lights out for cadets. The only place here where he could get close enough to that same feeling would be up on the roof, the same place where he saw the crash landing that would lead him to following Keith to his shack, to that cave, all the way to space. But even there, the feeling doesn’t stick — the comfort it does bring feels false, and the stars up there are dim from the haze of pollution that surrounds this area of Arizona.

So instead, Lance wanders the halls, eyes hurting slightly from the artificial brightness provided by the fluorescent lights. He nods vaguely to a passing officer, not bothering to smile.

He finds himself at the Garrison Training Room before he realizes he’s going there. It’s not nearly as big as the one that was on the Castleship, but it’s large enough to hold between two to three classes of cadets during class hours. Back when Lance was one of them, the room looked so much bigger — he always felt like the space was so overwhelmingly it might just swallow him whole

(and sometimes, just sometimes, he kind of wishes it did).

It’s late, which means that the floor _should_ be empty of life, human or otherwise. And it is, for the most part — Keith, of course, is still there. Lance, in all honesty, would’ve been surprised if Keith _hadn’t_ been in here still.

He’s sitting in the middle of one of the open mat sections, back to the entrance, stretching out with his legs spread and his arms reaching forward forward forward. Lance watches and swallows as Keith bends all the way in half, his back swelling and sinking with every deep breath he pulls. His shirt rides up a little.

Lance breathes.

“Ain’t no rest for the wicked, huh?” he says, breaking the silence.

Keith doesn’t visibly startle, although he stills for the briefest of moments, his previously lax shoulders tensing subtly.

“Lance,” he calls back, forehead pressed to the mat. “It’s kind of late for you, isn’t it?”

Lance winces. He had thought that maybe — just maybe — this, talking to Keith, would come easier now that the Galra were officially off Earth. Now that they have some time between the fighting, a small break to get their shit somewhat together before they have no choice but to return to space and figure out how to stop whatever Honerva’s evil plan is… well, he had _hoped_ to reconnect with Keith, even though he knew that realistically, as the officially reinstated leader of Voltron, he would be a lot more busy than before he left for the Blades. And yet, Lance couldn’t help but wish things were different. That things weren’t so hard, so awkward and clinical between them. The distance is stifling.

Keith is right there, facing away from him and pretending like everything is okay, and Lance’s chest aches a little when he thinks of how close they had been before Keith left. How Keith had become someone he trusts more than anyone else. How he had become someone Keith could wholeheartedly depend on, someone who would be his unwavering support and bring stability when he pushed himself too far.

How now, they barely speak to each other outside of missions. Barely make eye contact, for fuck's sake.

God, Lance misses him.

So maybe that’s why Lance surprises both himself and Keith when he opens his mouth, unbidden, and softly says, “What happened to us, Keith?”

Keith’s head snaps around.

“Excuse me?”

Biting his lip, Lance crosses his arms as he leans against the wall, still close to the door. Partially to give Keith some space, but also partially just in case this conversation goes horribly south and he needs to make a quick getaway.

“You know,” he says after a moment of staring at Keith’s face, which is slightly flushed and maybe even a little manic at the direction of this increasingly uncomfortable interaction, “Us? Leader and right hand man? We were close, dude. But after you left…”

Keith at least has the decency to seem guilty, turning to face Lance fully and examining him with his piercing gaze. After a few minutes of silence though, Lance fidgets and breaks eye contact, looking down at the training mat instead.

“Look,” says Lance softly. “I get that you’re going through your own stuff — we all are, after all — but I guess I just… I dunno. Things have felt different between us ever since you got back. I guess I just wanna know what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lance laughs outright. “Okay.”

“Seriously,” Keith insists, finally pushing himself off the mat to stand and walk toward Lance, clearly distressed. “You didn’t _do_ anything, okay? You’re right that I’m just going through some things of my own.”

“It just sucks, you know? You used to come to me for advice, or even just to hang out. But lately it’s been like — like I’m some kind of stranger. Worse than that, even.”

He hates the way he sounds so vulnerable. Hates that he’s admitting this to Keith, but he’s hurt and confused and tired. So tired. He just wants answers.

“I’m sorry,” says Keith. Lance’s chest clenches.

He comes closer still, until he’s standing just a foot or so away from Lance. The proximity pulls something deep within Lance’s stomach, his breath hitching as he drops his arms and straightens to his full height. Up this close, Lance can see how tall Keith has grown in the last — god, two years for him? that he’d been gone. They’re basically the same height now. It’s like…

“Keith?”

…like they’re on level ground.

Like they’re equals.

“Things have been…” Keith scratches at the back of his neck, the ends of his hair slightly damp with sweat from his workout. “...weird. Especially ever since I found my mom and had to live on the back of a space whale with her. I… saw a lot of stuff there. Things that I don’t think I was ready to see. And I guess I’ve just been taking it out on you. So, I’m sorry.”

Lance frowns. “Saw stuff? Like what?” And what the hell would any of that have to do with Lance?

“It’s nothing,” Keith mumbles, looking off somewhere to the side. “I’m working through it.”

“Keith,” Lance says, this time gathering the courage to place a friendly hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith stiffens at first, but manages to relax before Lance can move back. “You know you can talk to me, right? I know it’s been a couple years for you, but I promise I’m still the same Lance. I’m here for you, buddy.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Keith’s eyebrows knit together, his mouth pressing down into a slight grimace as he shakes Lance off of him. It stings, but Lance pushes through it regardless, suddenly determined to make up for lost time by being there for Keith no matter what. Even if he doesn’t particularly want him there.

“I can’t tell you,” Keith says stubbornly.

Lucky for him, Lance is just as (if not more) stubborn.

“If it’s bothering you that much, you shouldn’t hold it in. Especially if it has something to do with me.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Lance. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Lance persists. “Sometimes talking through your problems helps you solve them. I promise I won’t tell anyone else, not even Hunk.”

Keith scowls. “Lance, just leave it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“ _Yes_.”

“Oh come _on_ , Keith—”

“Jesus Christ, _Lance_ —”

“—don’t you trust me?”

Keith’s mouth clamps shut.

 _Bingo_.

It’s kind of mesmerizing, the way all the fight drains out of Keith. He noticeably deflates, the tension melting from his mouth and brows, his eyes going from agitated to big and almost sad. He echoes Lance’s earlier position, crossing his arms over his chest. It doesn’t feel like a gesture meant to block someone out, though; instead, it’s more like he’s holding himself together, to keep from cracking apart.

He sounds as tired as Lance feels when he sighs, voice hoarse when he whispers, “Of course I do.”

Lance dares to step forward, to reach forward once more so his fingers brush against Keith’s bare arm, goosebumps appearing beneath his fingertips. Keith shudders, arms tightening around himself but, thankfully, not shying away from Lance’s touch.

“Keith…?” Lance implores gently.

“I…” A deep breath. “I saw Allura. With you.”

 _Oh_.

“...oh.”

Keith huffs out a breath. “Yeah. _Oh_.”

“Like…” Lance blinks, trying his hardest to tamp down the heat that’s starting to creep up his neck. “Like _with_ me, or—”

“Yeah,” Keith says, but it sounds wrong. His voice is pinched, strained like he’s holding back — something. Lance is still too much in shock to reply right away, so Keith continues, “And I know it was — childish, of me, I guess. And stupid. You’re both my friends, but I was hurting because — because I wanted that to be me. And I took it out on you, which was wrong of me. So I’m sorry.”

Lance recoils because — _oh_ , okay. Okay then. So that’s how it is? That’s how it’s going to be?

Unbidden, an angry heat begins to bubble underneath Lance’s skin. Unlike the confused but still pleasant blush he’d been fighting off just a few moments ago, this is like acid searing through his veins. Is that really why Keith’s been so shitty to him lately? Because of some petty jealousy over _Allura_?

And okay, a part of Lance knows he’s being hypocritical. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s the jealous type, and he’s let that part of him get the better of his words and actions far too many times than he’s proud of. However, he’d like to think he would be able to keep himself from treating one of his best friends like _shit_ over a girl. He’s desperate, but not that fucking desperate.

Keith seems nervous now, teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek as he waits for Lance to react. And god does it piss Lance off, looking back to all the times he’s been snubbed by Keith, of all fucking people, just in the last four weeks. And all because Lance is the one who gets the girl? Grow the fuck up, Keith.

It’s not until Keith’s eyes widen that Lance realizes he’s said that last part out loud. _Oh well_ , he thinks darkly, jaw clenching. _In for a penny, in for a pound_.

“Are you seriously that childish? You’ve been acting like an asshole because you can’t stand the idea of me having something you don’t? You think you deserve Allura and I don’t?”

“What?” Keith says, hands curling into fists. They tremble as he speaks. “Are you joking right now? Lance—”

“There it is again!” exclaims Lance. “Because I’m always joking, right? Let’s just sweep all of Lance’s feelings under the rug because it’s not like they matter anyway — it’s not like I’m mature enough to handle the fucking truth!”

“Lance, what the fuck are you talking about, just let me explain—”

“Oh ho ho buddy, you’ve explained well enough.” He glares at Keith, shaking his finger at him. Keith looks just about ready to murder him. Good. “You just can’t handle the thought of me amounting to anything more than your right hand, right? You think I don’t see it? The way you’re always watching me, like I’m gonna screw everything up like the dumb kid I am — and now, suddenly when you see that maybe, _just maybe_ , someone might see me as more than that, as someone desirable, you just _have_ to shit on my parade because _you can’t handle not being the best_!”

Keith is shaking hard now, probably with anger. Or maybe Lance is the one shaking. Maybe they’re both shaking. He isn’t sure.

“It had _nothing_ to do with any of that! Are you — do you seriously think that’s how I see you? Are you fucking—”

“Stupid? Of course you think—”

“ _God_ , you’re so infuriating!” Keith yells, getting right up in Lance’s face. “You’re not even listening to me! Can you please just calm your fucking inferiority complex for one second so I can just _explain_ what I’m trying to tell you?”

Lance laughs bitterly, shoving Keith away. “Fuck you.”

He turns before Keith can do anything else, storming out of the training room, his blood boiling so hot steam may as well be whistling out of his ears.

“ _Lance_ , this conversation is not done, _get back here—!_ ”

He makes sure to slam the door on his way out.

_wasting all my precious time_

_and oh, the truth spills out_

_and oh, i’ve told you now_


	2. never seemed so far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro presses his lips together, then covers his mouth with one hand, before moving to massage the bridge of his nose.
> 
> “Okay,” he says finally, “okay. So. I think I know what happened here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title - heather by conan gray
> 
> chapter title/lyrics - i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth (summer song) by fall out boy

_and the record won’t stop skipping_

_and the lies just won’t stop slipping_

_and besides, my reputation’s on the line_

From that point on, Lance starts avoiding Keith like the plague.

He just — can’t. Even though, at this point, Lance knows he’s being irrational, a part of him is still inexplicably upset at Keith’s backass explanation for the strain he’d been putting on their relationship recently. It just doesn’t make sense. Keith has never really been interested in _anyone_ before, let alone _Allura_ of all people. How long has he liked her like that? Would he have asked her out himself, if he hadn’t had to leave for the Blades? Or maybe that’s exactly why Keith left in the first place — to make sure Allura was able to keep her spot in Voltron, the same way Lance had been willing to step down so he wouldn’t have had to take Blue back from her. Does Keith care about Allura that much? If that’s the case, he might very well be in love with her.

That thought alone makes Lance’s stomach churn even more than it did when Lotor was getting all cozy with Allura, but he isn’t exactly sure why. He supposes it’s because Keith is supposed to be his friend. He cares about Keith, and the idea that he’s pining for the same person Lance is pining for complicates their entire friendship.

It’s so frustrating, because Lance never once was anything but transparent about his feelings for her, but apparently Keith has been hiding his all along. Lance thinks back to asking Keith if he trusts him, and laughs bitterly. At least he knows the answer to that one, now.

He would like to think that, had Keith just been honest with Lance, he would have understood. Sure, he wouldn’t have been thrilled about it, and he probably would’ve felt really guilty, but they would’ve dealt with it. They would have gotten through it, together, because they’re a _team_ , damnit. They’re supposed to confide in each other, even if it means someone’s feelings might get a little hurt. Lance would have told Keith, if it were the other way around. Because he fucking _trusts_ Keith not to throw a hissy-fit just because they like the same girl.

Because, after all, isn’t that what’s more important? Their friendship? That’s what Lance had thought, at least. But apparently, he had been wrong about that too.

He knows he’s being childish. He _knows_ that, and it doesn’t help that Shiro keeps sending him these disappointed looks every time Lance brushes off another one of Keith’s attempts at talking again. But he’s so angry, at both himself for believing that the rift between him and Keith had somehow been his fault, and at Keith for letting something so asinine compromise their relationship in the first place.

He tries to understand — tries to imagine if that had been him on that dumb space whale, stuck there for two years and having to watch visions of the future that promised him heartbreak. And part of him does get it, because he’s not so angry that he can’t acknowledge the validity in Keith’s feelings: he can acknowledge how much it would hurt, if it were Keith with Allura in those visions instead. But for Keith to take that hurt out on Lance? That’s where that understanding stops. Lance might be petty, but he likes to think that he’s better than that. That he would have been able to just take the higher road and be a good, supportive friend regardless of his own pain.

Because _fuck_ , you’re supposed to make sacrifices for the people you love. That’s what Lance had to do when he became Keith’s right hand man — being rejected by the Black Lion hurt too, but Lance pushed all that aside to be there for _Keith_ , first and foremost. But apparently, Lance isn’t actually important enough to Keith for him to even consider doing that for him. Apparently, Lance’s feelings don’t matter because all Keith is able to focus on is himself, just like how he’s always been.

Except, that’s not really true. Ever since the very first time Keith had to take over as Voltron’s leader, he's helped change Lance for the better. With Keith, Lance is able to feel more confident in himself and his abilities as a paladin. Keith had given him _purpose_ , and Lance had never felt more seen in his life than he did while fighting alongside Keith. The change had been jarring at first, going from chasing after Keith to feeling capable enough to stand next to him, but Lance welcomed it all the same.

Which is why he’s struggling, now, to understand how they’ve managed to take ten steps backward from that place they were at before. How exactly is Lance supposed to fix this? Would it even be worth the effort? Or would all the hurt and jealousy and anger come rushing back the moment Lance and Allura actually get together?

Shit, that’s the other thing, isn’t it? Everything that Keith told him, about Lance’s changing relationship with Allura, all of that feels like a lot too. It almost feels like too much, if he’s being completely honest. Lance should be happy — ecstatic, really — that Allura is going to return his feelings. After almost a year of seriously pining for her, he should fall to his knees and praise God Almighty himself that she is finally, _finally_ seeing Lance as more than just some dumb kid from Earth who loves too hard and smiles too big.

She’s so brave and kind and beautiful, and somehow she likes _Lance._ Or she will, at least, if what Keith saw is even true. But that doesn’t change the fact that Lance will always just be a boy from Cuba; a boy who dreams of unrealistic things, like being able to pocket the stars, or pretty princesses falling in love with him. He’s almost afraid to be with Allura, because he doesn’t think he could ever possibly be enough for her. He has never even felt like enough to begin with.

Except, of course, with Keith — because Keith has a funny way of getting under Lance’s skin and never getting out. He has a way of pulling Lance inside-out and exposing all the parts of him he works so hard to hide behind poor attempts at humor and a grin that never quite reaches his eyes. Keith has the uncanny ability to pick Lance apart bit by bit and hit the nail right on the head about what’s bothering him, every time. And he always knows exactly what to say to get Lance to remember exactly why he’s needed — by Keith, by Voltron…

 _Leave the math to Pidge_ , he had told him. And then he’d left.

“Fuck!” Lance growls, hitting the button to close his door a little too hard. He’s too restless to be sitting around in his room, thinking about Keith and how angry he is at him for lying about the situation with Allura. He’ll just keep going around in circles at this point, until he somehow kills himself from the tension headache it’s giving him.

He stomps out into the common room where the halls containing the rooms for Team Voltron and the Atlas staff connect. Shiro is there, wearing a pair of reading glasses that look too small on his face, paperwork spread out on the coffee table he’s sitting in front of. He looks exhausted, nowadays, and the white hair isn’t really helping his case. _But at least he’s himself, now_ , Lance thinks darkly, tamping down the ever-present guilt he still feels from time to time around him.

Shiro looks up when Lance walks in, and when he perks up at the sight of him, Lance’s stomach drops as realizes he should probably be avoiding him too.

It’s too late though, because Shiro is already removing his glasses and patting the seat next to him.

“Lance,” he says, voice deceivingly warm. “Come sit. I want to talk to you.”

“Uh, sorry, Shiro,” Lance says awkwardly, shuffling in the direction of the kitchens with his fingers crossed behind his back. “I’m actually pretty thirsty, so I was gonna get some water…”

Shiro’s smile tightens, and to Lance’s dismay, he rises too. “I’ll come with you, then.”

They walk to the kitchen together in tense silence, Lance refusing to be the first to break it. He hopes that there are other people there right now, because he knows that Shiro won’t try and discuss something so personal in front of anyone else. But of course, because Lance always has the worst of luck, no one seems to be in need of a midnight snack at the moment.

As soon as the door closes, Shiro leans against it, effectively blocking Lance’s only means of escape. Well. He could always jimmy open and climb out the window next to the breakfast bar, but Lance isn’t sure he’s sunken that low quite yet. Probably.

“So,” Shiro says, getting right down to business. All the attempted subtlety from earlier is gone now. “Wanna tell me what happened with you and Keith?”

Lance doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he opens a cabinet and pulls out a glass, slowly and methodically filling it with ice and water. He takes a long drink, only half wishing it were something stronger. He swallows.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says finally, placing the now half-empty glass on the counter.

Shiro crosses his arms. “Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s interesting,” Shiro says, cocking his head to the side, “because last time I checked, you ignoring Keith and then leaving any time he tries to talk to you isn’t exactly something I’d classify as _nothing_.”

Lance clenches his jaw, then shrugs, feigning casualty. “Well it’s not like he and I have really been buddy-buddy since he came back from the Blades anyway.”

“No, you haven’t,” he allows, “but you and I both know this is something different. And for some reason, Keith is refusing to tell me anything about it. So I thought maybe you would care to enlighten me.”

“If Keith didn’t say anything, what makes you think that I would?”

He sighs, pushing off the door and sitting down wearily on one of the barstools.

“You know Lance,” he says, flexing the hand of his new prosthetic in front of him, “Keith has always been reserved. And one would think that would make him difficult to read, but really, it’s the opposite — whenever he feels something too big for him to try to hide, suddenly it’s like he wears his heart on his sleeve. So when he gets upset — really, truly upset — it’s not that hard to figure out. And Keith hasn’t been this upset in a long time.”

“I still don’t know what that has to do with me.”

“You don’t? Look, Lance. I’m not here to force you to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets or anything. And I’m not even here just because this… _thing_ is big enough to affect the team’s dynamic.”

He pauses, then, almost unconsciously, reaches up with his flesh hand to fiddle with the chain that he’s worn around his neck for as long as Lance has known him.

“I’m here,” he continues, “because I care about you. About both of you. And I want to be able to help, somehow. But I can’t do that if I’m left in the dark about whatever happened. I’m not here to judge, I just… I know you both care about each other deeply, and you can’t tell me that you don’t want things to get better between you two. So please, just let me help?”

And Lance is tired. So fucking tired. He wants to keep being stubborn, wants to turn the other cheek and tell Shiro he can go bother Keith about it again if he cares that much. But after everything that happened with Shiro’s clone, it’s hard for him to resist the urge to break down in front of this real, living, breathing Shiro. He probably owes this to him, at the very least — opening up about Keith, because even though he’s closer to Keith than any of the other team members, he knows Shiro would never betray his trust like that. He knows that, in the end, Shiro is just doing his best, trying to do what’s right for _all_ of them. And Lance would have to be a pretty shitty person to push him away for that.

Which is why, after a couple moments of silence, Lance finally makes his way around the bar and slumps right into the chair next to Shiro.

“He’s in love with Allura,” he tells him miserably, his voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a lengthy pause, before Shiro finally says, “... I’m sorry, _what_?”

“I _know_!” Lance exclaims, the floodgates opening. “Apparently, he saw a vision of me and Allura, y’know, _together_ , and he got so jealous that he started acting like an asshole to me. It was like the beginning of Voltron all over again! And like, whatever, right? It shouldn’t bother me that much because it’s not his fault he feels this way, but it also kind of hurts because I thought our friendship meant more to him than that. It’s not _my_ fault either, and if he had just told me we could’ve gotten through this together—”

“Lance,” Shiro interrupts, and Lance pauses because wow, Shiro sounds real strangled. “You — he told you that? That he… Allura…”

“Yes, he did! And I mean, I would have understood! Of course I — I mean, Allura is _amazing_ , who wouldn’t think she’s great, but that isn’t an excuse to just… push someone you’re close with away—”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro repeats. “But.. word for word, he told you he likes her? Has… romantic… feelings for her?”

“Well, not _word for word_ , per se but…” Lance scratches the back of his head. “He definitely implied it!”

Shiro takes a deep breath. “Okay… I need you to tell me exactly what he told you. Please.”

“I dunno what’s so confusing about it but… he told me that he saw the two of us — me and Allura — together, in the future, and was upset because he, quote,” Lance puts up air-quotes, “‘wanted it to be him.’”

Shiro presses his lips together, then covers his mouth with one hand, before moving to massage the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” he says finally, “okay. So. I think I know what happened here.”

“Yeah,” Lance scoffs, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Keith is a jerk who let his jealousy get the better of him and would rather see me miserable than happy.”

“Lance,” Shiro says, seeming to choose his next words carefully. “Listen. I think you’ve got the wrong idea.”

“The wrong idea? The only person with the _wrong idea_ —”

“ _Lance_.”

“...sorry,” he mumbles begrudgingly, biting his tongue.

“Listen,” Shiro says, placing a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I understand why you’re upset. It’s _okay_ that you’re upset. But I really, _really_ think this is all a big misunderstanding. And — don’t give me that look — I think this could all be cleared up if you just stopped ignoring Keith and let him explain. I know you’re still mad, but _trust me_ , okay?”

For a second, Lance is tempted to protest again, but something in Shiro’s expression halts the words right in his throat. Instead, he breaks eye contact and nods shortly.

“I’ll think about it,” he tells Shiro, moving to finish off the rest of his water.

Shiro sighs for what feels like the fiftieth time just this conversation, but smiles at him anyway. “I suppose that’s all I can ask at this point.”

Lance returns the smile wryly, getting up to wash his glass. But first, after a short moment of hesitation, he puts his free hand over Shiro’s real one and squeezes.

“Thanks Shiro,” he says softly.

Shiro shakes his head, looking slightly exasperated but mostly fond. “Any time, Lance.”

The next day, it’s not that Lance has decided to continue ignoring Keith. It’s _not_. It’s just that now… Keith seems to be ignoring him back. Or at least, he’s stopped trying to get Lance to talk to him at every opportunity when they happen to cross paths.

So Lance just… goes about his day, business as usual. He has to admit, Keith’s sudden lack of confrontation isn’t nearly as relieving as he thought it would be. It actually kind of hurts.

It’s ironic, which is a fact that Pidge has no problem pointing out later that evening after dinner, when she and Lance and Hunk are all hanging out in her (for once) semi-clean room.

“Dude, you’re the one who was avoiding him in the first place,” she tells him, like she’s Captain-fucking-Obvious herself. “I don’t know what he did to piss you off, but you’re an idiot if you thought he would just constantly grovel at your feet for forgiveness until you decided you were ready to stop being petty.”

“I didn’t think that,” Lance snaps, even though he kind of did. He won’t give her the satisfaction of being right about it, though.

“She’s right,” says Hunk, because he likes to betray Lance. “I’m surprised he tried for as long as he did. How long has it been now? Four days?”

“Three,” Lance grumbles, even though it feels like longer.

Pidge shakes her head. “What did he even do to make you so mad in the first place?”

Lance glares at her, but before he can open his mouth to tell her to _fuck right off_ , Hunk nudges him with his foot and gives him — shit — puppy dog eyes.

“C’mon buddy,” he pleads, folding his hands together and laying it on real thick. Lance hates him. “Don’t you trust us?”

It’s pathetic, really, how fast Lance succumbs to that. Even more pathetic when he remembers that he used the exact same tactic to get Keith to open up to him in the training room.

And so — not without a groan and an eyeroll first — Lance tells them what happened, in about as many words as he did with Shiro.

He has to admit that, while he does appreciate Shiro and the way he’s able to provide unwavering support and reassurance, there’s something undeniably therapeutic about venting to his friends about this thing that’s been weighing him down the past few days. Shiro has always kind of been Lance’s idol, and even after all they’ve been through together in Voltron, sometimes it’s still difficult to separate him from that idealized image Lance had created of him all those years ago. But _these_ dorks were his first real friends. He knows that they’ve drifted recently, especially when he and Keith were first becoming close, but being with them, talking to them… it’s nice. He’s missed them.

“...and so of course I started ignoring him — he lied to me!” Lance finishes with a flourish, throwing his hands up in frustration.

They stare at him.

“...what?” asks Lance.

“Bruh,” Pidge says, still gaping openly. “How dense are you?”

“Okay, _rude_ —”

“Lance, buddy…” Hunk says, but then trails off, glancing at Pidge nervously. “Um, actually, I don’t know if we should really tell you, because it’s not really our place, but…”

“Tell me what?” Lance demands, eyebrow raised so high he thinks he can feel it kissing his hairline.

And then Pidge bursts out laughing.

It’s not a pretty laugh. It’s actually sort of ugly — she doubles over on her bed, clutching her sides and snorting so hard she almost sounds like she’s on the verge of coughing up both of her lungs. Lance and Hunk stare at her until she calms down, gasping for breath and wiping gracelessly at the tears staining her cheeks. She’s still chuckling when she sits upright again and takes off her glasses to clean with the bottom of her shirt.

“Lance,” she says, sounding like she’s holding back more laughter as she pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and Lance swears they glint just like an anime character’s would. “My dude. Keith is _gay_.”

What.

“Wait, what?” Lance’s voice cracks. “No, that’s — you’re — you’re lying.”

He turns to Hunk, hoping that maybe he’s in on the joke that Pidge is obviously trying to pull right now. But, unlike Pidge, he’s not laughing. He’s still staring at Pidge, face pale and anxious.

Keith is... gay?

But… no, that doesn’t make sense… if Keith is gay… then he doesn’t — can’t — have feelings for Allura…

So then why…?

Lance’s eyes widen, and he can _feel_ the blush creeping up his neck.

“Oh _fuck_.”

Hunk makes a noise of distress and buries his face in his hands, while Pidge grins maniacally at the both of them. “Oh fuck, indeed,” she agrees.

_we can fake it for the airwaves_

_force our smiles, baby, half dead_

_from comparing myself to everyone else around me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note about pidge outing keith: while it's never okay to out anyone, pidge figured it would be okay because as soon as lance explained what happened, she knew that that was what keith had been trying to tell him the past several days. so to help speed up the process of lance getting his head out of his ass, she decided to just tell him (especially since keith wasn't even technically in the closet to begin with).
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi so um i may have been listening to conan gray's new album nonstop and was consequently inspired to write this angsty mess ahahah (it's currently 2am pls send help)
> 
> at first i was gonna just write everything out and post one gigantic chapter but i wanna try shorter chapters for this story - there's a lot i have planned and i think it'll help me feel more inspired to write more often if i put less pressure on myself regarding word count. anyway, i hope you enjoyed!! pls let me know what yall think :)


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